


Handfast

by whiterabbit1613



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M, my favorite cliche ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5730250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiterabbit1613/pseuds/whiterabbit1613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, Rodney, a cast of villagers, some ribbon and an unexpected realization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handfast

It was, of course, quite routine at this point to show up on some planet and be asked to demonstrate some shared core value by participating in some convoluted ritual destined to be elided in the mission reports. John, Teyla, Rodney and Ronon had been blessed, bonded, consecrated, sworn and married in just about every imaginable combination, to the point where John had developed a standard formula for his debriefs, something to the effect of "The team was invited to participate in a culturally-significant welcoming ceremony by the local population."

(John sometimes wondered if this never happened to Lorne, or if the other man was just more inventive when it came to report writing.)

The point being, when the Olkinians asked John to participate in a ceremony of hand-fasting to demonstrate his culture's commitment to the all-important value of loyalty, John just turned to Rodney, who stood beside him poking at his tablet, and said, "Tag, you're it."

Rodney rolled his eyes as he reached over his back to stow the tablet. "Yes, fine, whatever. Though clearly the romance has gone out of this relationship if that's your idea of a proposal."

John reflected later that he should have asked for a few more details before acquiescing. He and Rodney now sat facing each other in a strange chair that required them to press their left legs together, as a village elder wrapped a long, shiny red ribbon around their clasped right hands. Rodney was looking at him with something like irritation, though by this point he had drunk several mugs of the excellent local brew, so the flush in his cheeks made it hard to take his expression seriously. John, who had imbibed several mugs of ale himself, found that he was oddly mesmerized by the slow sweep of Rodney's pale lashes each time he blinked. They kept catching the firelight in interesting ways.

"This thread binds two souls together for all time," intoned the elder. "Red symbolizes the blood that will now course through your shared heart, blood which you gladly will spill for each other."

(John thought of those times the first year when their blood supply had been running low and they all took turns donating to stock it back up. Rodney was O neg; John wondered if any of Rodney now coursed through his own A positive veins.)

Rodney was looking at him oddly, and John wondered what he was seeing. The elder said, "The pair shall wear the thread all night, and if no one has severed them by daybreak then the bond is permanent, and no word or deed of man shall break it. The bond extends even past death and will reunite them in _Shakrati_."

"We have to wear this all night?" Rodney hissed. John only shrugged, with a quirk of his lips.

"Now, drink both of this cup," finished the elder with a flourish. "Then shall you be sealed to each other for eternity."

John looked up at the elder with his typical charm-the-locals smile and took the proffered cup with his left hand. He met Rodney's eyes as he drank deeply, then handed the cup to Rodney over their clasped right hands. As Rodney drank, John's attention caught on his eyelashes again; then the bobbing of Rodney's Adam's apple as he swallowed. John felt warm all the way through. He wondered what had been in the cup. Something sweet and smooth that curled in his belly like contentment.

The elder took the cup from Rodney's hand, drank from it himself, and then began passing the cup among the locals. As the ceremony began to morph into a party, people brought trays of food to the seated pair, setting them on a low table nearby.

"Well, that was nice," drawled John.

Rodney's mouth set in a line. "I'm not holding hands with you for the next twelve hours."

"You're right. It's more like fourteen. They have long nights, apparently."

Rodney hmmphed and twisted their hands for a better look at the knots that bound them. "Hey," John protested, as his wrist bent uncomfortably.

"Maybe we can untie it once the party's over," Rodney mused. "Then retie it in the morning?"

"And how exactly are we going to manage that by ourselves?"

Rodney lit up as Ronon and Teyla approached. Teyla's eyes were bright with merriment and even Ronon was quirking a smile. "Many congratulations," Teyla said, teasingly. "I wish you many years of good partnership."

"Hey Ronon, you're good with string!" Rodney said. "I don't suppose you could help us out with something this evening."

Ronon gave him a grave look. "You're asking me to help break your sacred vow?"

"Uh..." Rodney quailed in the face of Ronon's expression. "No?"

Ronon clapped Rodney on the shoulder, with a force that John could feel in his own body. "It's just for a few hours," Ronon rumbled.

"Fourteen," muttered Rodney.

"There is to be dancing in your honor," Teyla said, and now she couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice. "The elders assure me that your participation is vital."

John was smiling so hard, his face was beginning to hurt. Rodney gave a sigh of despair and slumped in the seat; the warmth of their thighs pressing together seemed to join with the warmth of the alcohol in John's stomach.

"C'mon, Rodney," John said. "It'll be fun."

"You must eat first, or the _ketal_ juice will have a great effect." Teyla touched foreheads to each of them in turn (Rodney lost some of his dour look as she did, as he always seemed to do), then escorted Ronon back to the communal tables. This left Rodney and John seated side by side, hands clasped and tied between them. John waggled his eyebrows, and Rodney finally cracked a smile.

"This food actually smells pretty good," he admitted. It looked good, too: pieces of meat and vegetables submerged in a thick, creamy sauce, and beside this a pile of something like sticky rice.

John reached across Rodney to take a handful of the rice. "I think it's finger food." He dipped it in the soup, grabbing a piece of meat and shoveling the whole bite into his mouth. "I don't think there's any citrus. Tastes kind of like... goat."

Rodney snorted but reached for his own handful. However, this required him to cross his arms awkwardly, and in the process of picking up a bite he managed to drop it all over his shirt. "Oh, great," he griped.

"Here," said John, delightedly, picking up another bite and offering it to Rodney. Rodney glared at him and opened his mouth to protest, but before he could lodge a formal complaint John popped the bite into his mouth.

"I hate you," Rodney managed, as he wrestled with chewing the sticky rice. John beamed. After a moment Rodney's eyes turned thoughtful, and he said, "We've definitely had worse goat-like-creature before."

John alternated feeding himself and feeding Rodney, and after a few bites Rodney seemed to forget his reluctance and ate the food from John's fingers with zeal. He had a grain of rice stuck to the corner of his mouth, which John found too funny to mention. As was so often the way with them, what had started as a joke had quickly become business-as-usual. It was one of the many things John loved about his friendship with Rodney.

And then Rodney licked a bit of sauce off John's finger, and suddenly there was nothing business-as-usual about it. Something like an electric shock zapped down John's arm and straight to the _ketal_ -contentment coil in his belly, setting it ablaze. It was like seeing Rodney with new eyes: the curve of his cheek, the blue of his gaze. Rodney said, " _Oh_ ," and John knew then that everything he had just felt was written on his face in plain text.

"Hi," he said, stupidly. He dragged his finger along Rodney's bottom lip and brushed away the grain of rice. He could feel Rodney's ragged intake of breath. He thought for sure he could pitch forward into the blue of Rodney's eyes and fall forever and not mind.

(People said that being in love felt like flying and he'd always found it cliché, but now John thought maybe he just hadn't been in love before, after all.)

He was about to say something, and he was sure it would have been better than _hi_ , but the village elder appeared beside them and took them by the shoulders, coaxing them to stand, saying, "It is time for the dancing to begin! You must bless the dance with your union!" Then they were herded forward, walking awkwardly shoulder to shoulder, John with his arm across his body to keep hold of Rodney.

"May I remind you that _I don't dance_ ," Rodney hissed as they were pushed into the clearing that served as a dance floor. Of course, John didn't dance either, but he looked at Rodney with not-the-stock-charming smile and said, "It'll be fun, remember? Just follow my lead." Rodney gave him a doubtful look, then turned his head as if to indicate the circle of tipsy villagers impatiently watching them.

John shrugged and put his left hand on Rodney's hip. After a moment a band started playing music that was a cross between a waltz and doo-wop, and Rodney's hand came reluctantly to rest on John's shoulder. "Of course you make me be the girl," Rodney groused, but there was no venom in it. They adjusted positions, shuffled a little closer as they turned slow circles in time to the music. Rodney's hand settled at the nape of John's neck, teasing ever-so-gently at the fuzz of his hair, sending shivery pleasure tingling down John's spine.

As they moved, a flush rose steadily in Rodney's face, spreading from the collar of his uniform like a sunrise. Finally, Rodney looked John in the eye with something like uncertainty and something like wonder, and said, "Is this...?"

"Real?" John asked.

Rodney nodded, happily. "Yes."

"Huh," replied John. "Yeah."

The music picked up pace as more people joined the dance. Some couples danced with right hands clasped, like John and Rodney; others danced with their left hands together, or with hands on shoulders. Bonded and un-bonded, John thought idly, then looked at his and Rodney's hands, pressed between their chests now as they twirled around. He liked being bonded to Rodney. He thought maybe they had been bonded for a long time and just hadn't noticed. He mentioned this to Rodney, who hummed in agreement, then tried to dip him like a ballroom dancer. John let out a squawk of protest and grabbed Rodney's shoulder for support. Rodney groaned under the weight but hefted them both back upright, John unable to help as he had gone limp with laughter.

"You're no help," Rodney huffed, smiling.

"Maybe warn a guy!"

"You should be able to predict my every move," Rodney replied smugly.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Later, John would remember the pleasing curve of Rodney's hip beneath his palm, the strange comfort of the ribbon fastening them together, the sweetness of more _ketal_ , Teyla's mischievous smile and Ronon's laughing eyes, and the perfect asymmetrical upturn of Rodney's mouth. John would remember leaning down to kiss it, and finding it sweeter than any _ketal_ in two galaxies.

The elder showed them to their room once the dancing died down, villagers walking or stumbling to their houses by turns. As they walked in the moonlight, the elder's robe a pale beacon ahead of them, it no longer felt awkward to move so closely together. John put his free arm around Rodney's back and looked at his face, once again enamored of the way his lashes caught the light. "You know, you're perfect," he blurted out. Rodney looked startled, then pleased, and a smile wider than any John had ever seen broke across his face.

"Surely, you don't think my ego needs any more boosting," Rodney said.

"I'll boost it every chance I get," said John with every bit of sincerity he possessed.

In the quiet darkness of their room, they helped each other out of their pants before realizing with a laugh that they would be unable to remove their shirts. They lay down facing each other on the bed and kissed with no urgency, only wonder.

"I never knew," Rodney eventually whispered.

Pressed by honesty, John replied, "I'm not sure there was anything _to_ know, before today. I wish there had been."

Rodney smiled. "There is now."

 

\--

 

The next morning, they emerged from their room into warm sunlight, and found the elder and a small group of villagers waiting for them, along with Teyla and Ronon. The elder inspected the ribbon, and declared, "The thread is unbroken! You are now hand-fast and shall be for eternity."

He pulled out a small pair of silver scissors and carefully cut out the knot holding them together. As the ribbon went slack, John found himself missing its pressure. With a quick squeeze of Rodney's hand, he reluctantly let go. Rodney quirked a smile at him. The elder, however, took their hands and looped the ribbon around their wrists once again. He had tied two knots in it, making two bracelets, which he pulled tight. As he trimmed the center apart, he explained, "We wear the thread to remember our commitment, and to recall that though we walk separately, we are forever one."

"Forever, huh?" asked Rodney.

John replied, "Seems so."

As Teyla chatted with the village elder, concluding some trade negotiation, Rodney and John began a slow walk back to the gate. The red loop around his wrist kept drawing John's eye, and then he would smile and see that Rodney was toying with his own bracelet. "You'll wear it, right?" John asked impulsively.

Rodney nodded. "What about you? It's not exactly regulation."

John carefully tucked the red ribbon beneath his black wristband. "Well, you know me and regulations."

With a smile, Rodney turned to dial the gate.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! While I'm a long time SGA fan and have read John/Rodney forever, I've never written it before so I hope you enjoyed. This is my favorite trope/cliche, and while many excellent variants on the theme have already been written, this plot bunny wouldn't be ignored :)


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